Happy Birthday to Me

Normally Birthday's depress me, indicating, as they do, that I have once again got older without becoming a trillionaire space adventurer with my own empire of space vixens/vikings. However, this time around, because it's my thirthieth, I started fretting about it about 6 months ago (or possibly 9). This meant that by 2 months ago, when people asked me how old I was, I had to stop myself from replying "30". This meant that by the time this morning actually rolled around, I'd gotten throughly over the idea of being 30, and actually feel quite chipper. Chipper enough to phone Erin at 7am and demand that she wish me happy birthday before I'd let het go back to sleep! Sadly, between now and 6pm there's 4 hours of work and 6 of train travel before I see her. But I expect the evening will be very nice indeed...